


The distance and the difference between us.

by wickedbad



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Drugs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Gavin Reed redemption, Hank is Connor's dad, I mean that, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Pacifist Good Ending, Post-Canon, Rating may change later depending on how graphically violent I feel like getting, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, but there will be violence, lots of swearing, not really but he also is, when i say slow burn i mean it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-14 14:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16494230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedbad/pseuds/wickedbad
Summary: “Listen to me, smartass,” Gavin slightly shook Connor’s upper body, nostrils flaring as he spoke, “Don’t think I wouldn’t put a bullet in you the first chance I got.”“I don’t think you would, Detective,” Connor stared back at him, unbothered by Gavin’s grand display of intimidation.[What happens when Connor and Gavin are assigned a case together that forces them to work alongside one another? Can Gavin learn to overcome his hatred toward androids? How is Connor coping with his new existence as a deviant? Between bickering, drug-busting, and a couple of shootouts, Connor and Gavin learn to see each other for who they really are.]





	1. Goodnight, Detective.

“There is no way - there is no _fucking_ way I’m working with this asshole,” Gavin stood in the center of Captain Fowler’s office, wildly gesticulating as he paid no attention to Connor, who hovered a couple feet behind him. He still had his morning coffee in his left hand, and Connor’s eyes followed the paper cup as it violently traveled with Gavin’s hand gestures. Captain Fowler was sitting behind his desk, unimpressed with the detective’s grand spectacle.

Fowler cleared his throat, reaching in front of him to shuffle through various papers on his desk before grabbing a black pen from a fist-shaped holder next to his computer, “If you’re finished, I’d like to get back to these assignments-”

“Fucking bullshit,” Gavin muttered to himself, rolling his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder to glare at Connor, who had yet to speak throughout the entire conversation (which, according to his internal clock, had been going on for approximately 8 minutes and 29 seconds). “This fucking asshole… What in the hell gave you this idea, Captain? Huh?”

Fowler peered at Gavin, unwavering in his neutral expression as he placed a manila file-folder atop a pile of miscellaneous papers on his desk. “What gave me this idea is that it is your job, and whether you like it or not it-” He stopped himself when he noticed Connor slightly tilt his head in his peripheral view. Clearing his throat, he shot an uncomfortable glance toward Connor before he continued, “ _he_ is your coworker, and if I put you on a case together then that’s just how it goes. Any more questions, Detective?”

“Yeah,” Gavin bobbed his head and sucked in his lips as he took a step closer to the edge of the captain’s desk, “Why don’t you just tell me to go fuck myself while you’re at it?”

Fowler snorted humorlessly, “Alright, Reed: go fuck yourself. But, make sure you get started reading through your case profile before you do that.”

With that, Gavin’s nostrils flared as he stepped back from the desk and turned to face the glass doorway, yanking it open. The door quivered as he breezed through it; he was already halfway through the main department floor by the time it shut closed. Shaking his head along the way, he hurried to his desk, dropping his paper coffee cup in a small, plastic waste bin. In the captain’s office, Connor hesitated, unsure whether he should speak. “I’m grateful for the opportunity to have a case on the field, Captain. I assure you that Detective Reed and I will put aside our-”

Without breaking eye contact from the files on his computer screen, Fowler lifted his index finger, “I don’t care if you become best fucking friends and hold hands while daydreaming about puppies and unicorns - just solve the fucking case.”

“Got it,” Connor nodded as he excused himself from the office, opening the glass door with a more disciplined manner. He stood on the stair platform, surveying the room; Gavin had wandered off from his desk, probably occupying himself in the kitchenette around the corner. Connor padded his way down the small staircase outside the captain’s office and noticed Hank sauntering toward his desk, plopping down into his dark office chair.

Connor strode toward him, taking the seat opposite the lieutenant that had been assigned to him as his personal desk space. He offered Hank a warm smile that was not returned, which did not take him by surprise. In his memory, he recalled the abundance of scattered beer bottles that he had collected from the living room and kitchen and disposed in the trash that morning before heading to work. He had been living with Hank since the end of the revolution, and he found much joy in taking care of Sumo and looking out for Hank’s well-being. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant.”

“Hank,” He corrected, shaking his head as his eyes fluttered shut and slightly rocked in his desk chair. He leaned back into the seat, tilting his head to rest it against the top. “How many times do I gotta tell you to stop with the ‘lieutenant’ bullshit?”

Connor nodded; he had made a few mental notes to stop referring to Hank by his occupational title, but it was difficult to rid himself of his innate programming. “Well, good afternoon, Hank. Did you sleep well? How was Sumo when you left? Was there enough food in his bowl? I left him some fresh-”

“Jesus, what’s with all the fucking questions?” Hank opened his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt around on his desk before he retrieved a bottle of Tylenol. He popped the cap and shook the bottle until a couple white pills fell into the palm of his hand. “Sumo’s fine, and I slept like shit… Whatever it is you’re dying to tell me, just spit it out already.”

Connor nodded, leaning forward in his chair. “I was assigned a case today - out on the field. I’m very much looking forward to this mission,” He smiled at the thought of going out and working; this would be his first police work since the revolution weeks prior. Last week, he had finished his official briefing on his new position within the DPD, which was classified as “Android Relations.” The new department had been established to adapt to the pending legislation regarding android rights - with new freedom came equal opportunity to incarceration and trial.

“I’ve already scanned through the case file three times,” He continued, which earned an empty chuckle from the lieutenant, “There’s been a report that might lead us to an up-and-coming drug cartel that’s been impossible to place; they’re quickly becoming one of the largest suppliers of red ice in the Detroit area. They’re recruiting displaced androids to assist them, taking advantage of their liberation and homelessness. It’s my mission to stop that.”

Hank frowned, furrowing his brow as he placed his coffee mug on his desk, “You’re… you’re doing this by yourself? Connor, I know you were… programmed for this kind of work, but you’re not used to… Are you sure you can handle this alone?”

“Of course not,” Connor explained, offering Hank a reassuring smile, “this mission is much too complicated for me to operate alone. I’ll be accompanied by Detective Reed-”

“The hell you are,” Hank’s eyes widened as he glanced over to Gavin’s empty desk, swearing under his breath as he scanned the area for wherever the detective had wandered off to in his bout of rage. “There is no way in hell I’m okay with you going off investigating with Reed. Fuck that, I’m gonna talk to Jeffrey about this-”

Before Hank could lift himself from his chair, Connor jumped up, reaching across the two desks to grab hold of the lieutenant’s forearm. “No, don’t!” After the words left his mouth, he realized his voice had been too loud for the situation; all the officers in the room were shooting glances in his direction. Hank brushed Connor’s hand off his arm, adjusting the sleeve of his jacket as he settled back down. Connor’s LED flickered yellow, swirling for a moment before returning to blue, “I’m perfectly capable of handling this situation with Detective Reed. I want to do this.”

Hank sighed, clicking his tongue as he bobbed his head in compliance. He wanted Connor to be independent, and he knew that he was capable of defending himself, but something about sending him out into the world with someone like Reed didn’t sit well with him; though, he’d never admit how much he worried about Connor’s well-being. “I don’t know about this, Connor… After all the shit that just went down, you guys aren’t entirely protected by the law yet… I don’t trust him - not with you.”

“Detective Reed is dedicated to his profession; I have faith in his ability to assist me in this investigation. Besides, he may very well receive a promotion from this case, if we succeed.”

Hank rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he exhaled. “Connor, I’m more concerned about how he’s gonna treat you, not if you solve the case… He’s an aggressive piece of shit with a gun… I don’t want you getting hurt, ‘sall.”

Connor wanted to remind him that, though he had a pending declaration of rights and he was feeling more ‘human’ by the day, he still couldn’t feel pain the same way humans did. But, before he could explain, he was alerted by Gavin’s sudden presence as he made his way from the kitchenette. The detective sauntered toward his desk, a new paper cup filled with steaming coffee in his grasp. If Connor had been keeping track (and he had been), this would be Gavin’s third cup of the day - not accounting for the mid-afternoon pick-me-up he always made. A quick body scan revealed his blood pressure and heart rate were high; if he was concerned about his cardiovascular health, he should consider cutting back on the caffeine, but Connor knew better than to make that suggestion.

Gavin sunk into his desk chair, turning on his computer screen and shook his head as he scanned through the files flashing before him. The DPD database had been newly registered with updated reports of androids who had been detained in the few short weeks following the revolution; some of the newly liberated androids seemed eager to chase the thrill of a life of crime. It didn’t bother anyone at the DPD, however; more cells filled meant more federal subsidizing.

Connor lifted himself from his chair, and, despite Hank’s protests, strode toward Gavin; he hovered a foot away from his desk, unsure how close he could get before the detective became angry with him. He decided that he would be cordial; it was integrated into his Social Relations programming, which he no longer had to abide by, but it was a great database to fall back on when he was unsure how to approach a social situation. But, before he could open his mouth, Gavin interjected:

“Get away from me, asshole,” He spat, keeping his eyes fixated on the flashing images on the computer screen while he gestured with his free hand, “Don’t even think about coming over here again.”

Connor frowned, his processor whirling, “Detective, if we are going to be working on this investigation together, then it is going to require that I occasionally come to your desk. I don’t think that is a plausible request-”

Gavin stared at him, the corners of his mouth turning upward as a humorless snort exited his nose. He feigned amusement as he eyed Connor. “You’re fucking with me.”

“We’re partners, but I don’t-”

“Don’t even finish that fucking sentence,” Gavin pushed his chair back, leaning against it as he folded his arms across the front of his chest. “We’re not partners; if anything, you’re my fucking dog for this case. But, don’t take that as an invitation to follow me around like you do Anderson; I’m not into puppy play.”

Connor’s LED blinked yellow as he creased his brow, “I don’t think I underst-”

“Of course you don’t,” Gavin interrupted, laughing to himself as he slightly rocked in his seat. He nodded his head as he waved Connor off, “How about you fuck off back to your desk and leave me alone, got it?”

Connor felt himself becoming irritated; he wasn’t going to tolerate this behavior for the entirety of their upcoming investigation. He also knew that if he couldn’t control the situation, Hank would get involved, and that was the last thing he wanted. He hesitated for a moment, weighing over what to say before he straightened his posture, “No.”

Gavin stared at him, narrowing his eyes as he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. The corners of his mouth turned down further. “What did you say? Did you say _no_?”

“Correct,” He reinstated, watching as Gavin lifted himself from his desk chair; his nostrils flared as he solidified his stance, and Connor did not give him the opportunity to interject, “We are working together on this investigation, Detective. I’m going to need your cooperation and professionalism if we would like to succeed. You don’t have to like me, but I expect you to work with me.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, you fucking prick; you come in here thinking you’re some hot shit because you’re liberated or whatever. Newsflash, asshole: I don’t give a fuck. You’re still a piece of plastic to me.”

The insults had no effect on Connor, who creased his brow as he maintained direct eye contact with Gavin. “Detective, where does your anger come from? Are you compensating for something?”

“Plastic thinks it’s a comedian now,” Gavin chuckled to himself, shaking his head, “Fucking great. Don’t spend so much time worrying about me; I know how to solve a fucking case.”

“Based on your file, I would assume otherwise,” Connor retorted; he knew better than to antagonize Gavin like that, but there was a part of him that did take a little enjoyment in ‘fucking with Gavin,’ as he had eloquently phrased it. If Hank was listening, he would’ve been proud of that comeback.

Gavin swiftly moved around to the other side of his desk, grabbing Connor by the collar of his jacket. “Listen to me, smartass,” He slightly shook Connor’s upper body, nostrils flaring as he spoke, “Don’t think I wouldn’t put a bullet in you the first chance I got.”

“I don’t think you would, Detective,” Connor stared back at him, unbothered by Gavin’s grand display of intimidation.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Hank’s voice boomed as he stepped closer to the scene, reaching out to place a sturdy hand on Connor’s shoulder, “Let him go.”

Gavin released his grip on Connor’s jacket, shoving him back a staggering step before turning on his heel to walk around his desk. He muttered to himself, weaving a few obscenities into his incoherent ramble that Connor could just barely hear. Connor took a moment to straighten his posture and adjust his tie before turning his attention back to Hank, who was hovering awkwardly beside him. With a nod, Connor walked past the lieutenant and toward his desk across the main department floor.

Connor sunk into his chair, watching the computer’s idle-mode icon bounce around the corners of the screen. Hank rustled beside him, uncomfortably sifting through a few reports he had scattered across his desk. Connor had kept meaning to organize the lieutenant’s desk, as the blatant disregard to order was quite distracting.

“You didn’t have to do that; I had the situation under control.”

Hank glanced over at him. “I really don’t think you need to be doing this investigation. But, it’s not like you’d ever listen to anything that’s good for ya.”

“I am not going to let Detective Reed’s aggressive tendencies get in the way of my success during this investigation,” Connor replied, busying himself with the police reports on the computer screen, “If he has a problem with me, he can discuss it with the captain.”

Hank smiled and bobbed his head while he let out a soft chuckle, “That’s the Connor I like to see. You show that fucker who’s boss, okay? And, if anything happens, don’t you ever hesitate to call me, and I’ll come kick his ass, got it?”

“Got it,” Connor smiled and gave the lieutenant a wink.

* * *

_Congress has proposed a joint resolution for the android declaration of rights. This amendment, which details the extent of inalienable protections guaranteed to android civilians, was approved by a majority vote in both the House and the Senate this morning. In the coming weeks, a vote will be held by the individual States, and the amendment must garner approval from at least 38 states to receive ratification. Based on current polling, it is expected for most states to vote in favor of the-_

With a grunt, Gavin leaned forward and pressed a button on the dashboard to shut off the radio, to which Connor made no protest. It was simpler to let Gavin do whatever he pleased to reduce the potential for bickering. They had been sent to Midtown to begin their investigation; Fowler had sent them on a patrol of the area, tracking the location of suspected red ice supply centers. An anonymous tip had been sent to the DPD earlier in the week, and concrete evidence was necessary before any arrests or detainments could be made.

Gavin’s black Ford sedan was cleaner than Connor had anticipated it to be; the leather interior had been kept up over its years of use, despite being a model from 2030. He had expected Gavin to decorate his car with various bumper stickers, like Hank, but it was rather dull, save for a few minor scratches on the exterior. There was a faint smell of cigarettes that lingered inside the car, and an open pack sat in the cup holder; other than that, there was no miscellaneous trash strewn about.

_Gavin likes his car_. Connor made a mental note.

They had been stopped at a red light for an irritating amount of time, and Connor could sense Gavin’s frustration growing by the second. By the time they had made it to Midtown, snow had started to fall, and specks of white began to decorate the windshield of Gavin’s car; he bumped the lever behind the steering wheel and activated the windshield wipers. The two had spent the entire car ride in complete silence, which allowed Connor the chance to scan the case file again, highlighting through it so he could familiarize himself with every detail.

In his peripheral view, he peered at Gavin, who was driving with one arm stretched out, fingers curled around the leather steering wheel. His tongue grazed across his bottom lip as he stared absently into the traffic, a slight crease in his brow. A rise in Connor’s thirium pump alerted his attention, and his LED flashed yellow. Shaking his head, he lowered his gaze to his own lap, folding his hands across his thighs; the foreign sensation that washed over him passed as quickly as it came.

Beside him, Gavin started drumming his fingers on his thigh, pursing his lips for a moment. “Fucking ridiculous,” He complained to himself. He sucked in his teeth and looked around the area they were in; it wasn’t often he drove through Midtown, as it didn’t fall under the DPD Central Station’s official precinct lines. The revolution had officers spread to different locations around the city to compensate for lack of staff, and red ice operations had been on the rise. Gavin exhaled, shaking his head as he continued, louder this time, “I have no fucking clue what we’re even looking for. This is bullshit.”

“If you had read the case file, you would have a general idea, Detective,” Connor responded, still recovering from his thirium pump’s sudden increase in activity. He turned his attention to the window, scanning the area for suspicious activity.

Gavin snapped his head in Connor’s direction, glaring at him. “I wasn’t asking for your advice, dipshit,” He paused for a moment to sigh in relief as the traffic light changed to green. The car in front of them stayed still on the road, prompting Gavin to slam his palm against the horn, “The light doesn’t stay green forever, fucking moron.”

Gavin turned the corner, glancing at his GPS to make sure they were headed the right direction. Not that it mattered; he had no idea what they were supposed to be out on patrol for, anyway. “Since you’re such a smartass, why don’t you tell me where the fuck we’re supposed to go.”

Connor shifted in his seat, “We’re looking for symbols in the graffiti… Red flowers, known as potentillas. This is a common tactic used by androids - if I scan the graffiti, it will lead us to one of the supply centers. I’ve done it before… The red flower is the symbol of the cartel-”

“A red flower? That’s the corniest fucking shit I’ve ever heard.”

Connor shrugged his shoulders. “It is simple and effective. Humans will overlook it, assuming that it is regular street artwork. An android - or someone who knows what they’re looking for - will find it useful. I just need to find the first one… It should start in Midtown and lead us to a supply center, if the anonymous tip was valid. Once we infiltrate the supply center, we may be able to find out more information that will lead us to Collazo.”

“Collazo?” Gavin shot Connor a look as he slowed down for another red light. He rolled his eyes as he leaned forward in his seat, clicking the heater onto a higher setting. The windows fogged for a moment before clearing up, revealing a heavier layer of snow falling around the car. “What the fuck is Collazo?”

Connor turned his body to face Gavin, folding his arms across the front of his chest as he raised an unamused eyebrow. The traffic light changed to green and Gavin turned down another avenue - it was starting to feel like they were wandering about in circles. “Collazo is the suspected drug lord. Did you not even _skim_ the case report, Detective?”

“Fuck no, why should I when I knew your smartass would explain it all to me,” Gavin rolled his eyes as he slowed down for a stop sign. “I don’t know if you’ve realized, but there’s hundreds of fucking graffiti around here… especially with all the political shit. We don’t even know if this ‘tip’ is fucking true or not. This is exactly the kind of pointless shit Fowler would stick my ass on.”

“If you are determined not to solve this case, Detective, you can relinquish your duty to Captain Fowler; maybe I should work alongside a more competent officer.”

Gavin glanced at him, mouth slightly agape. “Fuck you,” He shook his head as he pulled the car over, stopping it in an empty parking space next to the sidewalk that lined various shops. He twisted in his seat, pointing a finger at Connor, “Don’t act like you know fucking shit about being a cop, got it? You’re some plastic toy CyberLife had sent to fuck with us. I did narcotics for six years before I transferred; I know how to handle this shit.”

Connor’s LED flashed as he watched Gavin lean back into his seat, yanking the gear shift as he pulled the car back into Midtown traffic, which was closing in on peak rush-hour time. Gavin sucked in his teeth, rolling his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Beside him, Connor turned his attention back outside, scanning graffiti as they made their way through the city for anything that resembled a red flower.

Ten minutes had passed while the two sat in silence, Gavin brewing frustration as he kept his gaze locked on the road. They had turned down an almost abandoned avenue and Connor straightened his posture, his seat belt being the only thing keeping him secured to his seat. He focused his eyes on a wall of graffiti a few yards down the road, his processors whirling as he took in the information he was receiving from the scan.

“What the fu-”

“The red flower, right down there,” Connor pointed to a dirty brick wall that was coated in colorful graffiti, ranging in symbols that told stories of political differences, anti-android propaganda, and other miscellaneous artwork.

Gavin pulled the car over onto the avenue’s shoulder, squinting as he examined the street art. He made a face as he turned to look at Connor, “That fucking thing? That red flower?” He shook his head. “This is so ridiculous… So what, that means we found the supplier?”

“No,” Connor responded, ignoring Gavin’s sigh of frustration beside him. “The red flowers operate as part of a map; it sends me a visual of where the location of another red flower is. We follow the trail until we end up where we’re supposed to be. I explained this earlier, if you were listening.”

“Well, I wasn’t, dipshit,” Gavin put the car into drive and pulled back out onto the main street, “Where do we go now? Huh?”

Connor furrowed his brow, revisiting the image of the visual map he had scanned from the graffiti. “We follow the map. Maybe I should drive, Detective.”

Gavin roared with laughter, shaking his head as he did. “That’s fucking hilarious… You’re not driving my car, dumbass. Never. Got it?”

“You can’t get mad at my directions then, Detective.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just make sure you get us to the right fucking place without sending us in circles, and I won’t get mad. Got that?”

“Got it,” Connor exhaled as he started to describe the next location. Gavin turned onto the next road, looking around for the area Connor vaguely described while making sure he wasn’t distracting himself from the steady line of traffic. The snow had begun to pick up, falling thicker than before, and it started to stick to the road. Connor squinted through the specks, trying to see the graffiti on the buildings as they passed.

They followed the map for almost thirty minutes, leading them through various locations around the city. The red flower trail proved to be quite intricate, sending them back to locations they had already passed to make it more confusing. This, of course, did no favors to lighten Gavin’s mood, who had started muttering about how much time he was wasting on this ‘stupid investigation.’ Every time they slowed down, Gavin would lean forward to flip through the radio, finally settling on scratchy-sounding punk rock music.

“I like this music,” Connor offered when the song had ended. He searched for it in his database, learning that the band was called Smooth Wire, and they had disbanded in 2032 after the lead singer quit the band in favor of a new one; he made the mental note to suggest both bands to Hank, to see if he would play them for him. “It’s very intense, which excites me.”

Gavin glared at Connor out of the corner of his eye before reaching forward to click off the radio. He cleared his throat as he adjusted himself in his seat, tugging on his seat belt before rubbing his chin. Connor frowned, LED flashing yellow, as he focused his attention back on the outside, watching the snowfall as they continued to drive to the next location.

“This is starting to feel like a fucking goose chase,” Gavin rolled his eyes when he noticed the confused look Connor gave him accompanied by a slight tilt of the head, “I think whoever sent in that tip was just fucking with us.”

Connor shook his head, “I don’t think so. The symbols are perfectly placed the same distance apart from the one before. I did some research on this area and there used to be a red ice facility that operated here a few years ago before it was shut down. It wouldn’t surprise me if this organization started where the other one left off; it was probably the perfect size and location.”

Gavin turned left onto another avenue that was dimly lit in the evening sunset; a few light bulbs were missing from the streetlamps and moths had started dancing around as they prepared for nightfall. Connor reached out and grabbed at Gavin’s arm, signaling for him to stop the car before they traveled down it any further. Gavin yanked his arm away from Connor’s grasp, “What the fuck-”

“This is it,” Connor interrupted, softening his voice as he sunk back into his seat.

“Why are you lowering your voice, no one can hear us, dipshit-”

Connor shook his head, pointing in the distance at a group of people who were standing outside a metal garage-style door. They were huddled around, some of them sporting dark-colored beanies and windbreaker jackets. A few of them were smoking cigarettes, puffs of smoke billowing as they laughed with one another as they appeared unaffected by the freezing temperatures. If any of them were androids, it was impossible to tell from a distance, especially if they had removed their LEDs after the revolution. Connor made a disapproving noise as he tried to scan the group. “We’re too far out of range for me to scan them… I can’t see any of their faces.”

“If I drive any closer, they’re gonna see us. If you really think this is the fucking place, then we’ll come back later and do some real police work - none of this stupid driving around on patrol bullshit.”

Connor bobbed his head in agreement, not wanting to risk exposing their identities before they could even start their undercover work. The group had not seemed to notice their presence, and he motioned for Gavin to head back the way they came. Leaning forward, Gavin started touching the screen on his GPS, punching in the address for the DPD before Connor interrupted:

“If you could, I’d like to be dropped off at Lieutenant Anderson’s house. He should be off work by now.”

Gavin shot him a look, visibly disgusted, “I’m not dropping you off at your fucking boyfriend’s house; you can get a taxi at the station.”

Connor frowned, “Despite what you may think, I do not have a relationship with Lieutenant Anderson. He is letting me live at his house since I have nowhere else-”

Gavin held up his free hand, cutting him off. “I really don’t give a shit about your life, okay? Spare me all that,” Gavin looked at his GPS, frowning as he scrolled through the directions, “Fucking fine. Anderson’s house is closer to here than the DPD, anyway. Less time I have to put up with your smartass.”

The sun had slipped past the horizon, and the skyscrapers that hovered above Detroit illuminated the city with their bright lights. The traffic from earlier in the day had cleared, and Gavin only honked at one driver before they made it to Hank’s neighborhood. Hank’s house appeared once they turned the corner; the front porch light was on, as well as the glow from the living room. Connor assumed Hank had just finished dinner and was sitting down to watch TV with Sumo resting on the floor in front of him. They had fallen into a routine of watching television together, which was mostly for Hank’s viewing, as he watched sports programs while Connor sat on the opposite couch, rubbing Sumo’s belly until Hank sauntered off to bed.

Gavin slowed down in front of Hank’s house, pulling out his cellphone as Connor unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door. He swung his legs outside the vehicle and walked around the front, his shadow growing in the illumination of Gavin’s headlights. He made it a short distance from the car before he hesitated, turning back to knock on the driver’s side window.

From inside the car, he could see Gavin’s heavy sigh as he pressed a button beside him, rolling the window down. “What?” He snapped, rolling his eyes.

“Thank you for your cooperation today, Detective. I’m looking forward to solving this case; I think we’re off to a good start.”

Gavin grimaced, shifting uncomfortably as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, “Fuck off with that.”

Connor shrugged, beginning to turn around before stopping himself again, “Goodnight, Detective.”

Gavin snorted and rolled his eyes as he put the car in drive and took off down the dark street, leaving Connor standing outside in the cold. Connor watched until the detective’s black sedan disappeared from the street before he turned on his heel and walked through the thin layer of crunchy snow that had blanketed the yard in front of Hank’s house, leaving a trail of footprints behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is! The first chapter of this fic that I worked laboriously on for the past three days (I'm not kidding my hands hurt so bad I literally have written and rewritten this fic about five or six times). I'm really enjoying writing it, so I'm hoping I'll be really motivated to want to continue, but school is demanding - so I'm not making any promises as to when it will be updated. If you liked it and /want/ me to continue, please leave a comment! It'll motivate me much more if I think people are actually enjoying my writing. If anyone comments I'll make sure I respond to them all to thank you!
> 
> Thank you so much to my best friend, [Fireplanetz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireplanetz/pseuds/fireplanetz), who beta'd this fic just a little bit ago. She gave me a lot if insight on the canon aspects of the game (because my memory sucks and she's seen more of the game than I have), and she's an awesome writer herself. 
> 
> Title is a reference to "Sound of Awakening" by Walk the Moon - the whole album is great, so I recommend it. 
> 
> As always, credit to Quantic Dream and Sony Active Entertainment for the creation of Detroit: Become Human and its characters and story.
> 
> Also! Don't forget to go vote if you're of age and haven't already :-)


	2. Our Stupid Investigation.

Connor fumbled around in his jeans pocket for a moment, finally retrieving a small brass key. Hank had given him the spare key to his house not long after he moved in, and the kind gesture was not lost on him; Hank trusted him enough and made him feel as if he had somewhere he belonged. The porch light bulb crackled outside Hank’s house, threatening to blow out, while Connor turned the key in the deadlock. From inside the house, he could hear the rhythmic _thud_ of Sumo’s tail, which Connor had decided was one of his favorite sounds in the world. With a slight grin, he stepped into the house, letting Sumo slam against his legs as he tried to squeeze past to close the door behind him.

Leaning down, he balanced on one knee while Sumo rubbed against him. He brought his hand to Sumo’s back, petting the smooth fur in rhythmic motions. “Hey, Sumo. Good boy,” Connor leaned into Sumo’s embrace as the dog continued to wag his tail at the touch. He put a final pat on Sumo’s head, lifting himself from the ground and brushing a few white and brown dog hairs off his dark pants.

Hank was sitting in the living room, his back pressed against the cushions of the couch with a beer in his hand. In front of him, a hockey game was playing on the television, and the score was almost matched between the two teams. The announcers were going back-and-forth about player statistics and the upcoming schedule in-between the action, which seemed to hold meaning to Hank.

“Good evening, Hank,” Connor offered as he padded through the living room, taking a seat on the opposite couch. He let his eyes follow the television, absently taking in the scene of various players shoving against one another. Sumo made his way toward him, settling down by his feet before lifting Connor’s hand with his head, demanding affection. Absentmindedly, Connor let his fingers graze against the top of Sumo’s head, occasionally scratching behind his ear, earning a thudding tail wag of appreciation.

Hank grunted from the other side of the room, his eyes fixated on the hockey game while he took a sip of his drink, “How’d it go?”

Connor shifted on the couch, lightly creaking the frame as he moved. He brought his gaze down to Sumo, who was staring up at him, eyes wide and round, with his tongue panting as he leaned into Connor’s touch. “I think we are off to a decent start.”

“I didn’t believe that for a second,” Hank glanced over at Connor, taking another swig of his drink before shaking the bottle, frowning at its emptiness. He reached for the remote beside him, pointing it toward the television as he muted the game. “Was he a dick? Shit, don’t know why I even asked; ‘course he was a dick…”

Connor opened his mouth but cut himself short; he wanted to confide in Hank that he was worried Gavin’s behavior and short-temper were going to tamper their investigation, but he also didn’t want Hank to convince him to quit. The truth was Connor _wanted_ to solve the case with Gavin because he wanted to prove he was able to adapt to difficult situations the same way as humans. He was up for the challenge of working alongside Gavin; he didn’t mind if the detective hated him and viewed him as a lesser person - he wanted to prove to himself that he could be a competent officer.

“Detective Reed was nothing short of pleasant.”

Hank blew his lips in response as he lifted himself from the couch, staggering toward the kitchen. He padded his way to the refrigerator, bending down to sift through its contents before retrieving another beer. Connor’s eyes glanced toward the four other empty bottles that were sitting on the coffee table and frowned, “I don’t know if you should drink anymore, Lieut- Hank.”

Hank waved him off, shaking his head as he twisted the cap on the bottle, sending it bouncing onto the countertop with a _pop_. “Mind your own damn business.”

Connor shifted in his seat, reaching down to rub Sumo’s exposed belly, who had rolled over onto his back, waiting patiently for Connor to pet him. He was growing increasingly worried about Hank’s drinking problem, but he didn’t feel as if it was his place to speak on the subject. That would be a conversation for another time, he decided. Humans were like that - or so he was learning; a lot of them preferred to ignore their problems instead of addressing them head on. And, Hank seemed to be an expert at avoiding his troubles.

Hank sank back onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the edge of the coffee table as he reached for the remote to unmute the television. The hockey game switched to commercial as soon as he did, and he sighed while lowering the volume again. “I know you’re all hellbent on solving this case to prove something, but you really don’t gotta worry about that. If anything, Reed’s the one who needs to watch his ass and actually solve a fucking case; he’s been pissing everyone off for years. Been sick of workin’ with that asshole for a while now.”

“I think that, with a little effort, Detective Reed could adjust his attitude and be a likable person,” Connor had noticed there were little things about Gavin that peaked his interest; it spiked activity in the part of him that was designed to dissect human psychology and adjust to their behaviors. He wanted to know more about why Gavin acted the way he did; he wanted to know why he loved his car so much and what made him drawn to punk rock music. Why did he transfer from narcotics? Why _exactly_ did he hate Connor so much? He had decided that figuring out Gavin was his own side objective, and he was determined to succeed; it was what he had been programmed to do, after all.

Hank rolled his eyes as he sighed; Connor tended to see the best in people who didn’t deserve it. He had so much hope for the world; he wasn’t tainted in the same way Hank and so many others had been throughout the years. That was one of the lessons he was hoping Connor would come around to learn before it ended up getting him hurt: sometimes humans were shit. “Some people just aren’t worth it, kid.”

Connor frowned, unaccepting of that response. He turned his attention away from Hank and focused on the hockey game; the announcers were discussing how one of the players was a shoo-in for the MVP award at the end of the season, and they bounced around various statistics that were lost on Connor. At his feet, Sumo whined at the lack of attention, and Connor dropped his gaze back to the dog, petting the base of his head, just behind his ears.

There was so much he needed to prepare for the investigation; they were heading out onto the field soon to collect more data. There would be a briefing with the captain in the morning to discuss the identities they would be adopting while on the job and what constituted as their parameters. He also needed to start wearing other clothes beside the uniform he wore to work every day; the only adjustment he had made to the outfit CyberLife had designed him with was a new jacket - one that repped the DPD instead. He assumed that a wardrobe change would satisfy Hank, as he had a tendency of complaining about Connor’s regular get-up, trying to push him into the direction of wearing something more ‘human.’

Then there was Gavin, who seemed completely unattached to the case. If earlier had been any indication of how the remainder of their investigation was going to unfold, then Connor knew they were in for much more bickering and obscenities. He knew that Captain Fowler had paired them together due to Connor’s new position in Android Relations and Gavin’s background in narcotics, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if the assignment was intended to be a punishment for the detective. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if Gavin didn’t start taking the case seriously and dedicate himself to their success.

“I’m headed to bed,” Hank’s voice alerted his attention as he focused back on the living room. Hank made his way to the kitchen, dropping his beer bottle into the waste bin before turning around to face Connor. He reached onto the couch for the remote, tossing it toward Connor, who made no effort to catch it while he watched it plop onto the cushion beside him. “Don’t just sit out here driving yourself crazy with whatever it is you’re worrying about, ok? I can hear your fuckin’ gears turning from here.”

“I won’t,” He muttered as Hank walked over to the light switch, turning off the dim light in the living room, leaving Connor and Sumo in the glowing light of the television. “Goodnight, Hank.”

Hank nodded, padding down the hallway toward his room. “Night, son,” He disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Connor turned his attention back to the television, picking up the remote beside him and aimed it at the screen, flipping through the channels until he landed on a nature documentary. He had learned that Sumo seemed to enjoy the sounds that came from nature television programs, so he made a habit of putting one on every night.

He lifted himself from the couch, collecting the beer bottles that Hank had left behind on the coffee table. A few days into Connor’s stay at the house, Hank had fussed at him about cleaning - he had said something along the lines of ‘You aren’t a fuckin’ maid,’ but Connor hated the clutter that accumulated. It also gave him something to focus on instead of everything else that was on his mind. He bent over to open the cabinets below the sink, feeling around until he found a bottle of blue dishwashing soap; he grabbed a sponge beside the faucet and started cleaning the dishes, knowing that Hank was going to hate that he washed them.

From the living room, Sumo whined in his sleep, which alerted Connor’s attention. He glanced over his shoulder into the dark room, looking at the silhouette of Sumo’s body in the flashing light from the television; Sumo’s leg twitched in his sleep, probably dreaming about running around the backyard or chasing a squirrel. He was thankful to have Sumo in his life; he felt like he could connect with that dog more than anyone else - as if they had a silent, mutual understanding of one another.

His eyes glanced over to the clock, which was closing in on three in the morning; he liked to be ready for work before seven and out the door no more than half an hour later. With a few hours to spare, he sauntered over to the couch, sinking down onto the cushions as he let his eyes follow the television. The soothing sounds of rushing water and the cooing of birds were accompanied by beautiful landscapes of the American west on this episode. When the program flashed to commercial, he decided to scan through the case file again, though he really didn’t need to; he had every bit of information memorized and accessible within seconds in his database.

If he was confident in anything, it was that he was determined to succeed in his two missions: solving the red ice investigation and figuring out Gavin.

* * *

Connor caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass paneling as he made his way through the main department floor; Hank had let him borrow a few articles of clothing that he had grown out of throughout the years, to which Connor was grateful. For the investigation, he swapped his typical DPD jacket-of-choice for a plain leather one that was wearing along the back and on the elbows.

“Looking good, Connor,” Chris’s voice called out as Connor walked passed his desk; he had stopped shuffling through a stack of paperwork in front of him to glance at Connor’s outfit, smiling and nodding his head in respect. “You really look like a detective now.”

Connor bobbed his head in appreciation. “Thank you, Officer Miller. Lieutenant Anderson offered to let me borrow some of his older clothes, and I decided that this jacket would work for the investigation; I think it fits the profile well,” He continued on his way toward the break room, where he paused to hover outside the threshold while he took in the sight of Gavin leaning against the counter. He stood with his arms folded across the front of his chest while he waited for his coffee to finish brewing; he was pushing his tongue into his cheek, and he rolled his eyes as he took in the sight of his new company.

“Good afternoon, Detective,” Connor hesitated for a moment before stepping into the break room, settling beside a small, circular table toward the wall. A few abandoned paper cups and sugar packets decorated the top, and Connor folded his hands beside them as he glanced at Gavin, “I was beginning to think you weren't going to show. You missed our briefing with the captain this morning; he told me to relay the information to you whenever I saw you next.”

“Great,” Gavin clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He blew his lips as he glanced over his shoulder at the coffee maker, impatiently tapping his feet while the dark liquid began to pour into the paper cup he had placed beneath it. He focused his attention back on Connor, eyeing his body up-and-down, which prompted Connor to shift at his gaze. “That’s not what you’re fucking wearing, is it?”

Connor straightened his posture, “Is there something wrong with my outfit?”

“Yeah,” Gavin scoffed as he reached for his coffee cup from the machine, grabbing a few sugar packets from the console beside it and stuffing them into his pocket. He walked over to Connor, gesturing toward his chest with his free hand, “Take off the fucking tie, nerd.”

Connor tilted his head for a moment before bringing his hands to his neck, loosening the tie from around the collar of his button-up shirt. He held the black fabric loosely in his grasp as he extended it toward Gavin, who shoved his hand away. “Do you have any other suggestions?”

Gavin grimaced, taking a step back to put more distance between them. “We’re not exchanging fashion tips, dipshit,” He started to walk out of the break room before stopping himself, taking a few paces back to face Connor, “Jesus, I can’t even fucking look at you wearing that shirt… Don’t you have _anything_ else you can wear that’s not so… fucking nerdy? Like a t-shirt or something? You’ll stand out like a sore fucking thumb where we’re going.”

“This is the only shirt that I have with me,” Connor frowned as he took slight offense at Gavin’s extreme distaste of his outfit choice. But, he found it to be undeniably true that he had struggled with dressing more casually, like most humans; for the sake of the investigation, he would listen to Gavin’s fashion advice, as he appeared to have mastered the art of casual work attire.

Gavin scrunched his face as he rubbed the nape of his neck, hesitating for a moment. “I have a spare shirt at my desk you can wear - anything to make you not look like such a fucking dumbass,” He shoved past Connor, bumping into his shoulder as he made his way to his desk space, Connor following close behind. Gavin placed his coffee cup on the edge of his desk before bending down to shuffle through one of his desk cabinets, eventually retrieving a light gray t-shirt from the drawer. He tossed it at Connor, who caught it against his chest. After a moment, Gavin raised his eyebrows, “Don’t just fucking stare at me - _go change_.”

Connor nodded, holding the soft material in his grasp. “Thank you, Detective,” Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and headed toward the restroom, feeling the cool fabric against the palms of his hands. Once inside the restroom, he stepped into one of the stalls and shimmied out of Hank’s worn leather jacket and then hung it on the holder inside the door. One by one, he unbuttoned his shirt, eventually drooping it over the jacket. He slipped Gavin’s t-shirt on over his head, immediately taking in the faded scent of myrrh and cigarettes that lingered on the fabric. His LED swirled yellow as his eyes fluttered shut; there was something pleasing about the smell as it was so unique to anything else he had detected; this prompted him to register it to his database to attach to his memory, and he labeled it ‘ _Gavin_.’ The t-shirt was slightly too tight on his lean body, but for the purpose of the investigation he assumed that it would be fine; he found it to be quite comfortable and considered for a moment that he should wear more t-shirts.

He stepped out of the restroom and made his way to Gavin’s desk space, who was sitting leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on the edge of his desk. He had his cellphone in one hand and his paper coffee cup in the other, and he typed with his thumb while he stared at the screen. Connor hovered by his desk, proudly displaying the t-shirt, and noticed how the detective’s face looked when softened, not creased into a tight scowl; the expression made him look much younger. Finally noticing Connor’s presence, Gavin focused his gaze on him, immediately grimacing, “Don’t just stand there like a fucking idiot; go get our shit ready.”

Connor frowned, unsure why he had wandered over to the detective’s desk, anyway. He headed back to his side of the main department floor, wishing Hank had sauntered into the office already so they could talk about Sumo or sports games that Connor pretended to care about. He collected a few files that were scattered across his desk and put them away in one of the drawers. Then, he took a seat in his desk chair, turning on his computer to submit a few adjustments to the expanding police report; every now and then, his gaze would linger toward Gavin across the room, who was showing something on his phone to Chris, who had wandered over to the detective’s desk before heading to the break room.

They needed to head out to report to the suspected location before it was too late in the day to begin investigating; they still needed to find a way to introduce themselves to the dealers, and Gavin had skipped on the morning briefing. There was so much Connor felt they needed to prepare for before throwing themselves out onto the field with dangerous criminals, and his worries were only worsened when he overheard Gavin talking to Chris about the investigation, mistakenly referring to the red flower graffiti as blue.

* * *

 “You were supposed to turn right, Detective,” Connor reminded Gavin as he looked beside him, noticing Gavin’s fist clenched tight around the steering wheel. Without a word in response, Gavin continued to head in the opposite direction, making no effort to glance back at the GPS, which was frantically highlighting the correct route, commanding Gavin to turn around. After another few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Gavin turned into a parking lot, pulling the car into an empty space before yanking his keys from the ignition, stuffing them into his jacket pocket.

Connor peered out the window at their location, frowning as he took in the scene. A neon sign was perched above a building, sticking out a few feet as it displayed ‘Deja Vu Club’ in blue cursive writing; a few of the letters were blinking out of rhythm, letting off an electrical wheeze that rung in Connor’s auditory processor. The building was quaint and dimly lit; from the outside, he could see the patrons sitting at the bar and spread throughout the room, some occupying themselves at a pool table in the back corner. The exterior was grungy; the brick walls around the corner were decorated with obscene graffiti and anti-android propaganda, all insults that Connor had heard before. A few stragglers were huddled outside the bar, the cold from their voices billowing in the evening light as they leaned against the wall; some of them were smoking while they drank, each one of them wrapped up tightly in warm winter clothing.

Connor turned his attention back to Gavin, who was fumbling around in his pockets for his cellphone. They were supposed to head to the location the flower graffiti had led them to the day before, and it was frustrating that Gavin was withholding information, making up his own plans without consulting Connor. “I don’t think now is the time for drinking, Detective.”

“Why? You got something else you need to be doing? I’ll be right back; you just sit here and run an update or whatever the fuck it is you do,” Gavin scoffed as he pressed a few buttons on his phone screen. Without looking over at Connor, he continued, “Stay in the fucking car.”

Gavin reached to unlock his seat belt, sending it flying backwards into its holder; he swung the driver’s side door open, stepping out into the cold winter evening, letting the breeze seep into the car before closing the door. Connor watched as he shoved his hands into his pockets, hunching forward as he made his way toward the bar entrance. When he passed the stragglers who were smoking outside, he offered them a congenial nod before slipping through the front door. Connor furrowed his brow as his eyes followed Gavin while he stepped toward the bar, sitting down at one of the stools while catching the bartender’s attention.

Connor was growing increasingly irritated as he watched Gavin turn around in his seat, surveying the bar before him. He knew it was going to infuriate Gavin if he went inside, but he wasn’t going to sit in the car while Gavin had a few drinks. Unclicking his seat belt, he opened the passenger side door and stepped out into the crisp evening air. He made his way toward the entrance, keeping his eyes diverted away from the people who were smoking; as he passed, one of the men in the group puffed smoke into his face, causing each of them to erupt with laughter while Connor continued walking.

The inside of the bar wasn’t much nicer than the outside; the checkered tile flooring looked as if it was in desperate need of a deep-cleaning, and the red leather material on the booths was peeling and cracked due to years of use. In the back corner, a few ladies were standing around, laughing with one another as they sipped their drinks. As he had seen from the front window, a few of the patrons had occupied themselves at the pool table, cursing and joking with one another in between their shots. He found Gavin positioned at the end of the bar, a shot of whiskey sitting in front of him; his gaze was elsewhere, and he didn’t hear Connor as he approached.

Connor hovered about a foot away, folding his arms across the front of his chest, “Is there any particular reason you’re avoiding our investigation?”

Gavin whirled around in his stool, glaring at Connor, “I thought I fucking told you to stay in the car, dumbass,” He sucked in his lips as his eyes darted back-and-forth between Connor and the front entrance of the bar, to which the sound of the door opening echoed the room, “Fuck off alright, just stay away from me.”

“We’re supposed to be going to the supplier location, Detect-”

“Why are you talking so fucking loud? I know what I’m doing, so just fuck off - we don’t know each other, got it?” He rolled his eyes and turned around, reaching for his glass of whiskey and knocking the rest of it back. With that, he lifted himself from the stool, bumping into Connor as he made his way to the middle section of the bar, hovering next a younger dark-haired man who was sitting alone, “Is this seat taken?”

The younger brunette man shook his head, gesturing toward the stool while Gavin took the opportunity to make himself comfortable. He turned his attention back to the bartender, waving her over as he ordered a couple drinks for the both of them. Connor decided that there was no use in arguing with Gavin, so he took a seat at the other end of the bar, staying close enough in range so he could keep an eye on the detective. He watched as Gavin placed his elbow on the bar, propping his head against his fist while he smiled and chuckled at something the other man said; it was so unnatural and out of character for Gavin that Connor wasn’t sure if it had actually happened. Maybe his processors were glitching.

“If you’re not gonna order a drink, don’t sit at the bar,” One of the bartender’s voice interrupted Connor’s concentration. He looked at the man, whose hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and he had an array of colorful tattoos that trailed up the lengths of his arms.

Connor stayed seated, unbothered by the threatening tone, “I’m waiting for someone,” His eyes fell on Gavin, who was already ordering another round of drinks for himself and the brunette man, this time settling on what appeared to be a rum and Coke.

“Looks like he’s busy,” The bartender wiped his hands on the front of his black apron before tapping his knuckles against the bar top, “If you wanna sit here, you gotta order a drink.”

Connor furrowed his brow, peering down at the other end of the bar, noticing that Gavin had moved his stool closer to the brunette man. “I’ll take whatever he has,” The bartender nodded his head as he reached behind the bar to retrieve a clear glass and a bottle of rum; he dumped a scoopful of ice into the cup followed by a steady stream of warm liquid before topping it off with cola. He slid the glass toward Connor, who mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ while holding out a crisp dollar.

In his grasp, he swirled the liquid around for a moment, lifting the glass up to his nose to take a sniff; he pulled his head back, alarmed by the potency - his system flashed error messages informing him to stay away. Shaking his head, he placed the glass back on the bar in front of him, watching as it began to condensate. At the middle section of the bar, Gavin was leaning forward, whispering something into the man’s ear. Connor felt his body stiffen as his LED began to swirl yellow; he couldn’t bring himself to look away as Gavin let his hand fall onto the other man’s thigh, allowing it to sit delicately just above his knee. The brunette man rolled his eyes in a playful manner, reaching for a napkin and a pen from his coat pocket before leaning against the bar to scribble something on it; when he finished writing, he tucked the napkin into Gavin’s pocket, laughing about something as he did.

“What’s a fucking android doing at a bar,” A rough voice interrupted Connor’s focus, and he took notice of a larger man hovering beside him. The man had a thick beard which covered fading scars beneath his dark hairs. He took a step toward Connor, reaching out to poke his LED with his index finger, jerking Connor’s head back. In response, Connor flinched, sensing his LED turn bright red. “Uh-oh, looks like it’s upset.”

Without a word, Connor kept his gaze focused elsewhere, hoping that the man would get bored and leave him alone. Out of his peripheral, he noticed that Gavin was still chatting with the brunette man, his back facing Connor as he missed out on the interaction. The larger man leaned toward Connor’s face, gripping his chin and tracing his calloused thumb along his jawline. “You look at me when I’m talking to you,” His voice boomed as he jerked Connor’s chin upward, forcing direct eye contact. He chuckled to himself, tightening his grip on Connor’s face, “You’re not welcome here… But maybe you can help me change my mind.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Connor muttered, feeling the man’s fingers tighten around his jaw. The man smelled like cigarettes and whiskey, and a quick body scan revealed that he had been drinking much more than he should have been. Frantically, Connor scanned his database on what to do in this situation; he didn’t want to cause a scene - especially not within such close range to the supplier location. Any of the patrons at the bar may recognize him at a later point in time if he drew attention to himself.

The man got closer to Connor’s face, his breath tickling his skin. An error message flashed before Connor’s eyes while his simulated heart rate began to increase. “Don’t think that I wouldn’t-”

“That’s enough,” Gavin’s voice interrupted from over Connor’s shoulder. Immediately, he felt his body relax, as well as the man’s grip from around his jaw. The error messages ceased; the red glow of the coding fading out of view.

The man took a step back and narrowed his eyes while he glared at Gavin. He began to step toward him, towering over the detective; Gavin appeared to be unbothered by the man’s intimidation and stood his ground. The man tilted his head, cracking his neck in the process while he kept his eyes locked on Gavin, nostrils flared. “Androids aren’t welcome here.”

Gavin shrugged, “Maybe not, but don’t mess with this one. Now fuck off, got it?”

With a grunt, the man backed away, sauntering off toward the pool table a few feet to the right. When he had resumed his game with his friends, Connor felt his system begin to recalibrate and his thirium pump began to settle; he turned to look at Gavin, who had his face scrunched into a tight scowl. “Thank you,” He mumbled, his voice coming out much softer than he intended.

Gavin looked at him, but when their eyes met, he lowered his gaze. Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes while he gestured toward the bar entrance. “Let’s fucking go,” Without waiting for Connor to lift himself out of his stool, he hurried out of the bar and into the wintry Detroit nightfall. Through the front windows, Connor could see Gavin had already made it to the car, sliding into the driver’s side seat as he started up the engine. While keeping his gaze lowered, Connor followed out into the parking lot, making sure to avoid eye contact with the smoking stragglers who were still lingering outside.

He opened the passenger side door but hesitated before getting into his seat. “Maybe I should drive, Detective; you did just have a few drinks.”

“I’m only letting you drive because this isn’t my fucking car,” He sighed as he unclicked his seat belt and hurried out of the vehicle, not waiting for Connor to move out of the way before sliding into the passenger side chair. Connor adjusted himself on the driver’s side and watched as Gavin leaned forward to press a few buttons on the dashboard, causing the windows to fog up for a moment before clearing. Before Connor could back out of the parking space, he heard Gavin sigh as he tossed a napkin into Connor’s lap.

Connor lifted the napkin from his thigh, which had the same design as the neon lighting sign outside the bar stamped onto the corner of the material. There was a scribbled mess on the napkin, but Connor could make out an address, which he recognized as the supplier location from the day before, and the name ‘Aaron.’ Tilting his head, he peered over at Gavin, who was sitting straight in his seat, arms folded across the front of his chest.

He cleared his throat, “The guy I was talking to is an informant I met on an undercover mission a couple years back. I called him up this morning and asked if he knew anything about getting in with red ice dealers. Dude’s been hooked on that shit on and off for years, so I figured he’d know something. He gave me that address and a name to ask for when we get there; now it looks like we didn’t conveniently show up out of fucking nowhere,” He paused, licking his bottom lip as he turned his attention to Connor, “If I say that I know what I’m fucking doing, and I give you an order, then you listen to me, got it? That little spectacle you had in there could’ve blown our cover if any those people noticed you.”

“I wasn’t aware that you were working-”

Gavin gestured for Connor to start driving, and he obliged as he began to reverse out of the parking space and headed down the main road. “Yeah, I fucking know; you’re impatient and stubborn as hell. Fucking android…”

“It would have been nice if you had told me you were meeting with an informant; I would’ve stayed in the car if you had communicated with me. We’re partners on this investigation and-”

Gavin let out an empty chuckle, “You just can’t get it through your thick plastic skull that we aren’t fucking partners, can you? I don’t care what Fowler or Anderson, or the fucking government tells you, you’re not a real fucking cop. You’re still just some plastic toy left over from CyberLife’s failed attempt at making money off lazy dumbasses.”

They continued down the main road in silence for a few minutes; Connor wondered why Gavin had even bothered to intervene back at the bar. If he was so concerned about their cover being ruined, he didn’t have to cause more of a scene by interrupting the man; Connor would’ve had the situation under control if it had escalated into anything more severe. Not only that, but he was now left to worry about the informant; though, he couldn’t deny that he was impressed with Gavin’s ability to get information.

“The informant at the bar… You said that you met him on a previous undercover mission. How do we report this in the case file? Fowler said this morning that we were supposed to-”

Gavin clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “We're not _going_ to put it in the case file, okay? It’s on the down low,” In his peripheral, he noticed Connor tilt his head and he sighed, “It means we’re keeping it a fucking secret, got it? No mention of any informants to Fowler.”

Connor furrowed his brow, eyes focused on the road. “I don’t think I understand why-”

“Jesus Christ, Connor; if I say that something is a secret, then it’s a fucking secret, okay? Christ, for a fucking robot with infinite knowledge or whatever you sure are a fucking dumbass.”

Connor’s LED flashed yellow; he knew he should’ve dropped the subject, but there was something inside of him that wanted to know more about the informant and how Gavin knew him. “If you want me to lie for you, I’m going to need a good reason.”

“Is because I fucking said so not good enough for you?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he kept his vision locked on the road ahead. When they came to a stop at a traffic light, he rubbed his chin before continuing, “Fine, since you’re so fucking nosy; I got close to him and it fucked up a case. I’m not supposed to be using him as an informant anymore - that’s all, got it? That satisfy you?”

Connor frowned, “Why would you jeopardize our investigation to meet with him?”

Gavin threw his head back in frustration, hitting the headrest of his seat while he let out an aggravated sigh, “Jesus, you are so fucking stupid. How the fuck else were we going to have a good cover story? Huh? I don’t care about whatever bullshit story Fowler told you; it fucking helps to know someone on the inside. So, I just risked my fucking job for our stupid investigation, does that make you happy? Huh?”

 _Our stupid investigation_. Connor had to admit that it was a start. It may not have been the conventional way that he had hoped they would begin their investigation, but they did have a good introduction to base their identities on. It still bothered him that Gavin was hiding information, and he knew that he wasn’t being completely honest about his past with the informant, but there was no need to prod and make him more upset. Maybe he cared about succeeding in solving their case more than he was letting on, and that was something Connor could work with. “Yes, Detective, it does. I’ll lie for you because I believe it is what’s best for the investigation.”

“Fucking wonderful,” Gavin sighed as Connor turned down a dark road, squinting through the thin layer of snow that surrounded the car. “Just start listening to me and we won’t have to worry about keeping up with lies, got it?”

That was a promise Connor wasn’t sure he would be able to keep, but he kept his mouth shut as he rolled the car to a stop, pulling the key out of the ignition as they reached the supplier location.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally intended to have this finished before last Friday, but I ended up getting sick a couple days after the first chapter was posted. And, while I was sick I ended up buying Red Dead Redemption II, and I've been playing obsessively for the last week. Anyway, I wrote most of this chapter while sick, and then when I went to edit it I discovered it was a complete mess, so it took a few days to fix it up. 
> 
> If you're liking it so far, please leave a comment and/or a kudos! It keeps me inspired to want to continue, and I love hearing thoughts if anyone has any ideas they'd like to see in the future. 
> 
> A big thank you to [Fireplanetz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireplanetz/pseuds/fireplanetz) who beta'd this fic last night and always offers me a lot of creative insight. She also has a great fic called [This time I won't forget.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16503080), which is also a slow-burn Gavin x Connor fic! It's wonderfully written and super angsty, so go check it out if you haven't already and leave her some kindness. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I can't wait to get started on Chapter 3! :-)


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